DISTURBING....DELICIOUS part 4
by vangiekitty
Summary: Jean turns to prof. Xavier for help with her strange cravings but his advice is very upsetting. Read 1-3 to know what the heck I'm talking about.


Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Men, Marvel does. Oh well...  
  
Hey, I seem to have offended some of you Scott-lovers out there with some of my recent stories. That's ok, you're entitled to your opinion. Flames will be used to toast my marshmallows. :) It's not so much that I'm a Scott-hater, I'm just a Logan-lover, OK? Also, there has been some criticism of my take on Jean's powers, etc. May I just remind you, this is all for fun. If my take on the situation bothers you, feel free to consider this fic to be set in an alternate universe where Logan says dirty words, Jean is a nympho, and (gasp), Scott is a dick. OK, that's all, on with the fic, Bub!  
  
  
DELICIOUS.....DISTURBING part 4  
  
  
"No, Jean. You may *not* back out of the mission with Logan; I am very sorry but we need the   
  
information you are going to gather too desperately. Now, what is this all about? Logan was in only an   
  
hour ago with the same request. Is there trouble between you? No- don't bother to explain." he added  
  
with a wave of his hand. "I see it all in your mind. All I got from Logan was a confusing babble about a  
  
"delicious smell" and a fear that he would hurt you emotionally. But Jean, he cannot hurt you if you do not  
  
allow yourself to be hurt. Do you understand?"  
  
"No. Yes... I don't know, Professor! Why am I like this?"   
  
"Ah, yes, my dear. I have caught this thought from you before- that you are amoral in your   
  
sexual wants. Now Jean, *slut* is a very harsh word and not at all true. Please do not think this of  
  
yourself!" He shifted forward to look at her more closely. "As to why you have an increased sexual   
  
drive- why, it is your mutation, my dear. Only that, nothing is wrong with your moral fiber."  
  
Jean looked up from her hot tears, she hated to cry in front of Xavier. "My mutation?"  
  
"Oh yes. You see, your mutant genes are dominant. They urge you to procreate, to make  
  
more like yourself. Your body strives for this goal; it increases your sex drive. This is not uncommon.  
  
In fact, fully one half of the mutants I know of have dominant genes and the sex drive to match. You  
  
must not be ashamed of your drive; it is only your body striving for procreation of like. There is no  
  
shame, only nature and evolution at work."  
  
"But why me?" asked Jean brokenly.  
  
"Why any of us, my dear?" answered the Prof. kindly. "Jean, I have long known about your  
  
drive and your self-loathing because of it. But untill now, you never came to me and so I let it be, knowing  
  
it to be a purely private matter which you had rather keep to yourself. I would never presume to intrude   
  
on your privacy but personally, I always felt that you and Scott were a poor match in this area. His genes  
  
are reccessive, you see, and thank goodness they are! His particular mutation could be very dangerous   
  
indeed if it were widely distributed throughout the population. " He leaned back again, crossing his hands  
  
on his desk. "But it has been hard for you, my dear, very hard. Don't think I don't know and sympathise."  
  
"Professor, it *has* been very hard, but this is harder still," Jean confessed. "I am no longer  
  
in control of my emotions. I'm angry and ragged where I used to be calm and logical. I never knew I needed  
  
... well, physical contact- you know what I mean- this much. It frightens me." She looked axiously at him.  
  
"Jean, I wish I could give you easy answers, but you of all people know that nothing about  
  
our mutations is easy. We bear a burden, my dear, a deep responsibility. And I fear that this problem will  
  
only get worse for you. Before you were with Scott, you were a virgin, yes?"   
  
She nodded. "Yes."  
  
"You see, your body was not yet awakened, the genes were not so active. But now, through  
  
stimulation, (although not nearly as much as you ever desired), your body, your genes, are awake, my dear.  
  
They will not be dormant again untill you reach menopause. Indeed, I believe it is common knowledge that  
  
a woman's sexual drive actually peaks somewhere in her forties. This problem will get worse, not better, I  
  
fear."  
  
"How can you offer me so little hope? What else can I do but go back to Scott and beg him to  
  
help me "control my drives"? I'd rather be dead!" she cried passionately, half standing.  
  
"I didn't say there was no hope, my Dear Jean. And no, I don't feel you should go back to   
  
Scott. Theat was a bad match to begin with as I said before."  
  
"What other options do I have?" Jean demanded, sinking back into her chair.  
  
"Why find someone else with the dominant genes and sexual drive to keep up with you, my  
  
dear. You could be sublimely happy with the right person, I am sure."  
  
"Wonderful." Jean said flatly. "In essence, you're giving me the same advice my Mother did  
  
when I was younger- "Catch the right man, dear, and your future will be secure." she mimmicked  
  
bitterly. "I rejected that advice from her, Professor, I never thought I'd hear it from you!"  
  
"Nevertheless," he replied calmly, "The advice is based on your personal biology as I   
  
understand it, not the outdated sexism your Mother espoused."  
  
"Then isn't it so terribly convieniant that they boil down to the same thing. Professor, I   
  
refuse to let my body rule my mind! I have been celibate before and I will be again untill I find someone  
  
who loves me and whom I can love in return." She tilted her chin defiantly, a dangerous glint in her eye.  
  
"Bravely spoken my Dear, but I fear you will find that you can't go against your biology  
  
and you can't fight nature. However, I wish you the best of luck in trying. Eventually, your body will  
  
make a descision for you weather your brain concurs or not."  
  
"That's crazy!" Jean blurted. "I'm in complete contol of myself, I would never allow that to   
  
happen. I wouldn't turn into some kind of a..." she groped for words, "Sexual animal or something!"  
  
"Would I?" her eyes pleaded.  
  
"Jean, you have only just finished telling me how very *out* of control you feel. I am sorry  
  
to sound harsh. I am only stating the situation to you as I see it. My Dear, " his eyes grew soft, "Find  
  
someone to help you. You are suffering needlessly."  
  
Jean was crying softly again. "I can't, Professor. You know I'm not that way..."  
  
He sighed. "Yes, Jean. I know. But there's no other advice I can give you. Now," his voice  
  
grew buisnesslike. "I have work to do and I believe you must prepare for your mission tomorrow."  
  
"But Professor, I just can't go. It's so... awkward between Logan and me now!"  
  
"Jean." his voice was like a slap. "I do not have time to go over this again. You are going.  
  
That is final." He relented a little at seeing her stricken face. "Child, Logan also has dominant genes. This  
  
makes things hard, I know. But both of you are needed on this mission and no one else can be spared to  
  
play chaperone. I'm sorry, but you'll just have to work it out between you the best you can. Now go pack  
  
and remember to bring an extra tent to sleep in if close proximity to Logan is so troubling to you."  
  
With one last, red-eyed look, Jean left the room.  
  
***************  
  
Jean was broken -hearted and confused. The mission was early tomorrow and she had packed   
  
nothing, hoping to get out of it. How could the professor, of all people, give her such advice? Deep down,  
  
she knew he was only offering what he felt was a logical solution but still, it hurt just the same. The idea   
  
that she could go to one of the other men on the team and just make a quiet arangement to.... She couldn't  
  
finish the thought, not even to herself. "A girl's reputation is her most precious treasure." Whispered her  
  
mother's voice in her ear. "Once lost it can never be restored." This was one area where she had agreed  
  
with her mother. She just couldn't turn her back on those beliefs, could she?  
  
Angrilly, she began throwing clothes in a purple duffel bag, She didn't know what to think,   
  
she only knew she wished she wasn't going on this trip with Logan tomorrow. Blinded by tears, she paid  
  
little attention to what went into the bag.   
  
"Who cares what I pack!" she thought, savagely. "After all, it doesn't matter how I look,   
  
it's how I *smell* that seems to count!" This thought caused her to collapse, sobbing on the bed untill she  
  
cried herself to sleep very late that night. But the thing which bothered her most was the nearly   
  
subconcious knowledge that deep down, she wanted to follow the professor's advice. And the further  
  
knowledge that despite her body's cravings, her desire for Logan was more than physicall.  
  



End file.
